Summary

“He touches his sides, his neck, his lips, all the places Harry has just been, all the places that still tingle from Harry’s touch. Such a strange feeling Louis has, so unreal and nerve-racking. He can’t begin to describe what Harry has done to him, what about Harry makes Louis want to call him… Daddy.“

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Summary

Harry had imagined a world where he and Louis could be together, he dreamed of a thousand alternate universes where showing their love for each other wouldn't get them torn to pieces. At times, those daydreams were so vivid they made him delirious.

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Summary

The gray fabric cuddled Louis, keeping him warm inside the cold, lonely flat. Too big for his height and weight -Harry had a love for oversized sweaters and hoodies and he was much taller and bigger than Louis- he had been walking around with nothing but it on, hood covering his unwashed hair and providing him with inexplicable safety.

Louis and Harry break up and the only thing that Louis has left is Harry's hoodie and their memories.

Summary

Louis knelt down and examined Harry’s wrist again, thinking maybe it was bothering him. Then he realized; it was Harry’s right hand. Harry’s right hand.

Harry was right handed. Which meant…

“Oh shit, Harry! No! I —” Louis scrambled backward, hitting his back on the table. He cried out and stared at Harry’s cock and then back to his fevered face. Harry looked so desperate, so beautifully, beautifully desperate.

“I can’t Lou, I can’t do it by myself. I need…” he took a deep breath. “I need you to help me.”